


birds of a feather

by Chocchi



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Gen or Pre-Slash, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 10:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5124731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocchi/pseuds/Chocchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you NUTS?!" Holster yells. "The BROOM?! If you go at it with a broom it's gonna come flying out at us! It'll <i>attack</i> us! It probably has, like, weird owl diseases!"</p><p>(Bitty wants to finish his cupcakes, Ransom and Holster want the uninvited guest to leave, and Jack just wishes everyone would stop screaming so he can watch his documentary in peace.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	birds of a feather

**Author's Note:**

> i saw [this video](http://tumblr.becausebirds.com/post/89380983927/an-owl-gets-inside-the-house-the-owl-whisperer) and was talking to my friend about check please! at the same time and?? things just?? happened???  
> thanks to petra for looking this over for me

“Holy shit. Bits. Look up.”

Bitty slowly looks up.

“Oh,” he says. The owl squints back down at him from its perch atop the curtain rod and ruffles its feathers menacingly. “Goodness. I didn’t even notice.”

“How did you not fucking notice the goddamn _owl_ in our fucking _kitchen_ ,” Holster says, his voice a few pitches higher than usual. Bitty glances back at him, because the last time Holster sounded like that, he was ten seconds away from screaming for Bitty to go up to the attic to save the D-men from a spider.

“Holster,” Bitty says. “Are you… are you afraid? Of the owl?”

“I-- _no!_ ” Holster squawks, only sparing Bitty a brief indignant glare before refocusing his wary gaze on the owl. “I’m just--I’ve seen the videos, man! Owls are means little fucks! How are we gonna get it _out?!_ ”

“Bless your heart,” Bitty sighs, and looks back up at the owl. If it’s bigger than Señor Bunny, it’s not by much. Bitty’s dealt with worse-- at least it’s not bats. “Hand me the broom, please.”

“Are you NUTS?!” Holster yells. “The BROOM?! If you go at it with a broom it’s gonna come flying out at us! It’ll _attack_ us! It probably has, like, weird owl diseases!”

Ransom pokes his head in. “Why is Holster shouting about weird diseas--is that an owl.”

“Y’all are useless,” Bitty says. He yanks off his oven mitts, giving a mournful look at the cupcakes he’d been about to decorate, and crosses to the corner of the kitchen to get the broom himself. “You can leave the room while I deal with it, if you’re so worried.”

“But what if you get _rabies_ , Bits,” Holster says, woefully.

“Bro, birds can’t carry rabies,” Ransom says, but he’s watching the owl nervously. “Aw, man. I don’t want to be the one who has to tell Jack we let his tiny winger get maimed by an owl.”

Bitty hefts the broom into the air. “I’m not going to get maimed. Look at that poor thing, it’s scared. It probably didn’t mean to come in.”

“Maybe it did,” Holster says. “Maybe it has a secret owl agenda. This is all part of its plan, and you’re going to be the first to go.”

“Then it’ll come for us while we’re grieving and vulnerable,” Ransom agrees.

Bitty rolls his eyes and raises the broom a little more. Behind him, Ransom and Holster catch their breaths. Very gently, Bitty nudges at the owl’s feet with the end of the broom.

The owl ruffles at him menacingly again.

Holster whimpers.

Undeterred, Bitty prods again, a little harder. The owl ruffles harder, looking distinctly grouchy, and sidesteps to the left instead of hopping onto the broom like Bitty had been hoping it would.

“Come on,” Bitty murmurs. He moves the broom over to the owl’s far left and herds it gently back towards the right, until there’s nowhere for it to escape without departing the curtain rod, then prods at its feet again. The owl gives a tremendous, fussy, full-body ruffle, then finally hops onto the broom right as Bitty thinks he’s going to have to push it off the end of the rod and suffer Ransom and Holster’s terrified wails. “There we go, that’s it.”

“Brah,” says Shitty, from where he’s apparently appeared in the doorway. “Mad bird-whispering skills.”

“I should put that on my resume,” Bitty says. Ever so carefully, he starts to lower the broom.

“Oh my god, now it’s just closer to your face,” Ransom whines.

“Rest in pieces, Bits,” Holster whispers.

“Y’all are ridiculous, everything’s fine,” Bitty says. The owl squints at him as he inches it down to shoulder-height. “Why don’t you go out to the living room and protect the frogs from the feathery menace, hm? Now that Shitty’s here to take the blame when I get maimed, or whatever y’all were going on about?”

“Why is Bittle getting maimed?” Jack asks. “I heard shouting, what’s going--”

Bitty startles a little, because wasn’t Jack upstairs watching a documentary, Bitty didn’t even hear him come down the stairs he wasn’t expecting-- except then he jerks the broom just a _tiny_ bit and suddenly there’s the sudden snap and violent flutter of motion zooming past him and Ransom outright _screams_ and the owl flies

directly

into

Jack’s

face.

“Oh my god,” Bitty says, faintly, as Jack staggers backwards, looking stunned, and the owl zooms past him into the living room. The frogs start yowling almost immediately. “That was. I. I am _so_ \--”

“ _Crisse_ ,” Jack grumbles. “That’s what I get for coming down to check on you idiots.”

“ _Bro_ ,” Holster says, emotionally, throwing his arms around Jack’s shoulders. Ransom piles on with arms flung around both of them. “Jack. You almost _died_.”

“Pull yourselves together, it’s just a damn bird,” Jack says, crossly, “Bittle.”

“Y-yes!” Bitty straightens. “I’m really sor--”

“You’re with me,” Jack says, jerking his head back towards the living room.

Between the group hug of very tall jocks and Shitty leaning in the doorframe, Bitty can’t really see into the living room but he can _hear_.

“What the fuck! What the fuck is-- holy shit get it _out!_ ”

“What’s wrong, Nurse, haven’t you ever seen a bird before?”

“I’ve seen plenty of birds that doesn’t mean I want them _flying around NEAR MY FACE OH MY GOD GET IT OUT--_ ”

“Geez, Nursey, _chill_.”

“FUCK YOU, POINDEXTER--”

“Oh my god you guys stop don’t hurt it DON’T HURT IT!!”

“Goodness gracious,” Bitty says. This is it. This is his house full of giant adult men who play a violent sport and have to duck to go through some doors because they’re so tall. This is his house full of teammates who are afraid of a bird smaller than a loaf of bread.

Jack manages to get Ransom and Holster off of him, mostly by awkwardly transferring them to a high, affectionate and therefore much more receptive Shitty. He beckons Bitty after him again, sharply, and Bitty almost steps on Jack’s heels in his haste to follow him out of the room.

“Poindexter, the hell are you doing?” Jack says. Dex whips around to face them and almost topples down from where he’s standing on the back of the couch. “Get down from there before you get hurt.”

“I almost had it before,” Dex says, sulkily, as he climbs back down to the floor, “But Chowder grabbed me for some goddamn reason--”

“You were trying to hit it!” Chowder cries.

“And I missed and now it’s up _there_.”

“I can…. probably still reach that with the broom?” Bitty offers, doubtfully. It’s not that the ceilings are especially high, but he’d have to hold the broom at a pretty weird angle to get the owl down from the ceiling fan, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep it steady the whole way down.

“I’ll give you a boost,” Jack says. Bitty glances up at him, wide-eyed, but Jack’s gaze is fixed firmly on the owl, his features set in a scowl. “You want me to lift you, or do you want to sit on my shoulders?”

“Oh, um, well,” Bitty chews on his lower lip. “Whichever you think will be easier for you to hold for a minute or two? Or safest I guess?”

“Lifting is probably safer,” Jack says. “Ready? _Un, deux, trois--_ ”

Jack lifts Bitty like he weighs barely anything at all, and Bitty feels so much taller so suddenly that he automatically balances himself with a hand on Jack’s head. His hair is soft, and a little damp from Jack’s shower earlier, and _okay Bitty needs to focus on getting the owl down now this is not the time for this_.

“Better?” Jack asks, adjusting his grip. One warm, broad palm tucks itself snugly around the backs of Bitty’s thighs.

 _Oh my god I don’t deserve this_ , Bitty thinks, frantically, and doesn’t even know which way he means that. “Yeah,” he manages to say, out loud, testing his angle with the broom to the ceiling fan. It’s much more manageable now. “Okay, easy now….”

The owl hoots at him irritably as soon as he gets the broom anywhere near its feet.

“Why the fuck is there an owl in the Haus,” Nursey says, more complaint than question, from somewhere in the room.

“It probably just got lost and accidentally came in through a window or something,” Chowder says. “It must be really confused. Look how small it is!”

“It’s vermin,” Dex mutters.

“No killing animals in the Haus,” Jack says, “I don’t care if you think they’re vermin.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill it!”

Bitty croons softly at the owl and carefully eases the broom within range of its feet. The owl hoots at him again, shuffling in place.

“Aw, man, where’s my phone?” Shitty whines. “Lardo’s never gonna believe this if I don’t have pics.”

“Do not take pictures of this,” Jack says.

“C’mon, like you wouldn’t have your camera out right now if you weren’t on Team Owl-Removal.”

“All of y’all shut up and let me pay attention to what I’m doing,” Bitty says. He nudges the owl’s feet with the broom ever-so-gently. The owl shuffles back, hooting angrily.

“Now it’s _really_ gonna get you,” Holster says.

“The owl doesn’t have an agenda, Holster,” Bitty says. “It’s just trying to live its life.”

“Can’t it do that somewhere else?”

“Aww, Nursey, you afraid of the wittle owl?”

Bitty makes the fatal mistake of looking away from the owl to gauge how close Nursey is to killing Dex. The broom slips and bumps up against the owl’s side--

The owl comes rocketing out, Bitty involuntarily shrieks and loses his balance, toppling to the side, watching the owl zoom for the stairs as he feels himself fall in slow-motion and thinks _oh god this is like that check all over again_ , squeezing his eyes shut--

Except right before he’s about to hit the ground, there’s an arm around the small of his back and a hand grabbing the back of his neck and-- his feet hit the ground jarringly hard, his entire legs feel like they’re vibrating.

He opens his eyes.

Oh, wow, Jack’s face is really close to his right now.

“ _Merde_ , Bitty-- _désolé, j’aurais dû te tenir plus fermement-- ça va?_ ”

“What?” Bitty asks, dazedly.

“Ah,” Jack says. “Sorry. You okay?”

Okay? Jack’s face is like, six inches away from his, tops, and he’s cradling the back of Bitty’s neck protectively. And Jack wants to know if he’s _okay??_

“Bittle?” Jack prods, questioningly.

“Oh, um,” Bitty licks his lips, nervously, and is he imagining it or does Jack startle a little, eyes tracking the motion? “I’m, I’m fine, thanks for catching me.”

“Got your back,” Jack says. The arm around Bitty’s back squeezes a little. He hasn’t backed away at all, hasn’t given Bitty any space, and it’s doing weird things to Bitty’s brain-- making him think things like, _maybe Jack_ \-- and they happen to make eye contact again and it _holds_ and Bitty--

“OH MY GOD WHAT IF IT GOES UP TO OUR ROOM!” Ransom screeches.

Bitty groans and lets his head drop back, Jack’s grip the only thing stopping it from thumping against the floor. Jack mutters something under his breath and eases Bitty the rest of the way to the ground. Bitty stays there, covering his face with his hands so he can take a moment to try to process the last thirty seconds of his life, because what the fuck.

The floor creaks-- probably Jack getting to his feet. “You know what? I’m done. You boys can handle this on your own.”

This declaration is met with distressed “what, no!”s (Chowder, Nursey), “but Jaaack, brah” (Shitty), and some “CAPTAIN HOW COULD YOU ABANDON US IN OUR TIME OF NEED”s (Ransom, Holster).

“We don’t need Jack to do everything for us,” Dex says. “Bitty and I can still deal with the owl. Right, Bitty?”

“Bittle,” Jack says. When Bitty peaks out from between his fingers, Jack is smirking down at him, a little meanly. “Want to go to Annie’s?”

“Oh my goodness yes please,” Bitty says. He lets Jack haul him to his feet and bundle him into a jacket, escaping out the door to a chorus of enraged shrieks and wails in the background. Jack has to physically shove Holster back to keep him from grabbing Bitty before they can shut the door.

It’s cold outside, but for once, Bitty feels refreshed instead of just chilled. The quiet, crisp air and open space are a relief from the stuffy, noisy Haus full of people.

“Just another lazy Sunday morning, eh,” Jack says.

“Shut up,” Bitty says. He’s smiling, though, and Jack smiles back down at him, eyes crinkling up at the corners. Bitty’s cupcakes are going to be cold by the time he gets back to frost them, but that’s alright, he thinks.

(Somewhere behind them, Ransom and Holster scream in perfect harmony.)


End file.
